


You Can't Always Get What You Want

by kachera



Category: The Vampire Diaries
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kachera/pseuds/kachera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon saves the day and has a crisis of conscious - which he takes care of with alcohol and Alaric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Always Get What You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal. Now moved over here for safe keeping.  
> Set just after Episode 20 "Blood Brothers" but before Isabel shows up. Just pretend there was a day or two between those two events instead of her showing up the same night.

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries  
Pairing: Damon/Alaric  
Rating: R for sex and some staking of vampires  
Warnings: Slash, alcohol, snark  
Length: 4544 words  
Disclaimer: Written for fun, not profit. I do not own these characters - they belong to The Vampire Diaries.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

Damon had just settled into the couch intent on figuring out how the device in his hands could possibly play into whatever John Gilbert and Isabel's plans were when his phone rang. Checking the caller ID he narrowed his eyes as he saw Sheriff Forbes names light up the screen. Flipping the phone open he answered with more enthusiasm than he felt, "Hello Sheriff. What can I do for you this evening?"

"Damon. I hate to bother you, but I'm really hoping you have some time free tonight." The Sheriff's voice was tinged with relief and pitched low as if she was trying not to be overheard. "I seem to have walked into more than I can handle on my own and I'm calling for back up. I've found a group of vampires at the old Crowley place. The report made it sound like one vampire but now I'm here, there are at least three vamps, and the sun will be setting in less than 30 minutes."

Damon's attention focused on the Sheriff's voice. "Do they know you're there?"

"I don't think so. I was scoping out the house for alternate exits when I noticed more than one body moving inside. I don't think they saw me, but I don't want to leave and give them a chance to walk into town once the sun's down." He could hear the concern in her voice, and had to admire her dedication. He understood the need to protect what he considered his own.

"Of course not. I'll get there as soon as I can, just stay put and keep an eye on them." Damon closed his phone and ran through his options. It had to be a splinter group of the vampires Pearl had run out of town, and he agreed with Sheriff Forbes that they had to be taken out. Getting rid of them would make blending in with the locals easier, and running in to save the day again would further cement his allegiances in the eyes of the Sheriff. The downside would be that he'd have to play it at human speed at least most of the time as the Sheriff had vervain in her system and he wouldn't be able to erase her memory. He got up to dig out some of the stakes he and Stefan kept around the house ever since Frederick's attack, when he stopped in mid-motion. He'd been halfway through looking up Alaric's number and hitting send on his phone. What had be been thinking? So far it seemed the good teacher wanted to stay off the council's radar, a goal Damon could understand and respect. He couldn't bring him in on this, but more to the point, why did he want to? He shook his head to clear it and deliberately put his phone away then headed for his car. At least he shouldn't have the threshold issue - the Crowley family had died out 40 years ago and as far as Damon knew their old place hadn't been rented or sold. Without a living resident he should be able to walk right in, just like the escaped vampires had done.

He found the Sheriff crouched down near the end of the driveway but still keeping an eye on the house. There were about 15 minutes of daylight left, but with the trees around the house as overgrown as they were, the shadows might already be deep enough for the vampires inside to make their move.

Damon leaned in and whispered into the Sheriff's ear. "We don't have much time. How do you want to do this?" He stayed close to listen for her reply, and felt her short hair brush his face.

"I'll take the front door, go in shooting. You swing around to the back door and cut off their exit. When you hear the first shot, make your own move but don't get so far into the house that you end up on the wrong end of one of my bullets. I've only seen three so far, but there could be more." It was a solid plan, and reminded Damon a little of his short time in the army. There was an excitement in being on the offensive and a steadiness in working with a partner to take out an enemy. He'd felt a similar rush when he'd been working with Alaric to get his brother back. He realized he'd missed the teamwork.

He nodded then rocked back on his heels and passed her two of his stakes while she handed him a gun which he assumed was loaded with wooden bullets. She pointed to herself, then the front door, and then signaled him to start making his way around to the back. As Damon eased his way around the house using the tree line for cover he felt his body start to sing with anticipation of the fight. He didn't have anything against these particular vampires, he'd already killed the ones responsible for hurting Stefan. The trouble was they were currently in his territory. Mystic Falls was where he'd grown up. The boarding house was as close as he came to having a home with its collection of belongings and memories, and the town included more than one person that he, well, that Elena would want kept safe. He wouldn't tolerate anyone else messing with his town but him, and that meant these vampires needed to be taken down.

As he got to the back door he tested the threshold and, as expected, found no resistance. Listening, he could hear the sounds of two people talking in the front room, and one closer to his position at the back of the house. None of them seemed to be aware that they were about to be taken out. With the sound of the front door being kicked in and shots fired, he ducked in himself and with his extra speed staked the vampire closest to him while they were distracted by the shots. Belatedly he then put two bullets into the vamp's chest as he remembered the Sheriff would be expecting Damon to have kept his distance. Hearing a shout from the front and the clatter of a gun hitting the floor, Damon quickly cleared the back of the house and ran into the living room. He registered the form of one vamp down in the corner and, without breaking his stride, fired three more shots into him to keep him down. He continued into the room to stake the vampire who was grappling with the Sheriff. As the body slid to the ground he moved his hands to the Sheriff's shoulders to steady her.

"You ok?" Meeting her eyes Damon registered her increased heart rate, but couldn't smell any blood on her.

She let out a long controlled breath and nodded. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I got a couple shots into him, but was very happy to see you show up when you did," the Sheriff replied, before noticing the third vampire still moving in the corner. Moving around Damon she pulled out one of the stakes and with purposeful steps, advanced to the last vampire to finish the job of killing him. Not having Damon's strength, the Sheriff had to finish driving the stake into place by kicking it in with her boot. Damon approved. She let out another breath, and turned back to Damon clearly still on point. "Any trouble around back?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Got one in the back room, then checked to make sure there were no more hiding in the house. Came out here when I heard your shout."

The Sheriff nodded and some of the tension drained out of her shoulders. "I'm glad you did. Thank you for coming out tonight. I can't say I enjoy risking my life to go after these things, but I can't stand by and not take care of my town either. I'm glad you feel the same." She took out her phone and started dialing. "Go ahead and take off. You hadn't planned on spending your evening this way, and I can get my deputies to clean up this mess."

Damon hesitated a moment, but then nodded his head. "All right. I'm glad you called, Liz." He handed his gun over, and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Better to bring in more hands when you're outnumbered." Damon left out the front door as the Sheriff started telling her team what was needed. He frowned as he made his way back to his car and worked through what he was feeling. He'd enjoyed the kill, enjoyed taking out a threat to his territory, but he'd also felt an unfamiliar warmth when Sheriff Forbes had thanked him for his help. His glib response to Stefan about 'loving that they loved him' was true as far as it went, but in the end he was not a nice person and he didn't have friends. So why had it mattered to him that Liz made it through that fight without getting hurt? Shying away from dwelling too long on that train of thought, Damon turned the car towards The Grill. The only solution, he told himself, would be to get very very drunk.

Damon walked up to the bar and took his usual seat, then ordered a bottle, compelling the bartender into letting him have it at no charge. Getting his booze for free was the least this town owed him. One quick shot down, and just as he was pouring a second shot into his glass he noticed Alaric sitting at a booth across the way. He had a book in front of him, but was currently starting at Damon rather than reading. With a smirk, and not breaking the gaze, Damon snagged his bottle and sauntered over to join him, sliding into the bench seat with more grace than was strictly necessary. He really couldn't help himself; Alaric was looking at him with that stubborn glint in his eye. It prodded Damon into being his most annoying self, and as he was here to distract himself from thinking too much about his excursion with the Sheriff, bothering the teacher would serve his purposes rather well.

Alaric continued to glare at him before breaking the silence. "Do you ever pay for your drinks? You do know that poor guy is losing money out of his wages every time you come in and pull that shit."

Damon smirked. "And why do I care about that poor guy's wages? Oh wait. I don't." Deciding to go with the staring contest, he grabbed Alaric's empty glass without looking and poured a shot into it before placing it back in front of him. "Here. Enjoy. Its on the house".

Alaric held Damon's gaze for a full five seconds before he moved his hand to pick up the glass and, still without looking away, downed the whole shot, hissing quietly as it burned its way down his throat. Damon smiled, and gave him the game by looking away to refill Alaric's glass a second time. He picked up his own and held it out to toast. "To knowing when playing along is the only answer."

Alaric narrowed his eyes with suspicion but put his hand on the refilled glass, though he didn't drink to the toast. "What are you doing here Damon?"

Damon shrugged and leaned back into the booth. "Why does anyone go to a bar? I plan to get drunk and forget my troubles." Swirling the alcohol in his glass he pointed to Alaric he continued, "Why are _you_ here?"

Alaric paused before answering "After our last fruitless little adventure, I was trying for a quiet evening. Maybe figure out what I want to do now."

Damon considered Alaric's answer "It's good to want things Alaric, but as my evening has already proved you don't always get what you want."

Alaric raised an eyebrow "Quoting the Rolling Stones?" He seemed to struggle with himself, knowing that asking questions would only encourage the other man to stay, but finally giving in. "And you're choosing to butt into my evening now to what? Share the joy?"

Damon smiled. "Exactly. I'm all about sharing. Besides, you drinking all alone at the bar... not a great image for your students."

Alaric tilted his head. "Right, and protecting my image is your first concern."

Damon snorted but didn't answer. He finished his glass and poured himself another, shifting a little in his seat to make himself more comfortable.

Alaric stared at Damon but couldn't make out what game he was playing. Damon was always up to something. On the plus side, he didn't seem to be particularly likely to kill anyone at the moment. Curious despite his better judgement, and honestly admitting he didn't mind talking to the man, he decided to try and find out what had brought Damon to the bar. "So. What ruined your night?"

Damon gave Alaric the short version of his evening. "So you see, I've once again managed to endear myself to the town's officials and made Mystic Falls a safer place for it's citizens. You really should have been there. Much more up your ally than mine." Damon frowned slightly as he finished, and tipped back another shot of bourbon.

Alaric wasn't sure what to make of Damon's story. On the one hand he was glad another group of vampires had been eliminated, which, as an aside, made him ask himself why the hell he was still in town with that kind of crap going on. On the other hand, helping the Sheriff like that did seem out of character for Damon. Alaric had witnessed Damon's instincts to protect the people he considered his own, namely Stefan and Elena, but it didn't sound like either of them had been particularly threatened this time. With a glimmer of intuition, he tested a theory. "Sure, yeah, I can see where doing an unselfishly good deed could really throw off your night."

Damon glanced at him, but didn't reply. Alaric wondered what he'd just learned.

They spent the next hour downing shots and talking. Wanting to stick to relatively safe topics, Alaric asked Damon to tell him about some of the historical events he'd witnessed and Damon was content to tell him truths and half-truths and they laughed more than they'd expected. Damon asked Alaric what he'd done before striking out to follow in Van Helsing's footsteps and Alaric surprised himself by telling his story. It was a frighteningly normal conversation. By the time the bottle was finished, Damon was pleasantly tipsy, no easy feat for a vampire, and Alaric was not far behind. Damon was enjoying himself and when he invited Alaric to the boarding house to continue their conversation, Alaric agreed.

When they stood up from the table and Alaric reached for his keys, Damon grabbed his elbow. "You aren't driving."

Glancing down at the hand on his arm, Alaric looked back up and met Damon's stare. "You are at least as drunk as I am, and I have no intent of getting stranded at your place without my car." He emphasized his point by pushing one finger against the middle of Damon's chest.

Damon was having a good time and wasn't going to let Alaric derail his evening by killing himself in some stupid car crash, even if he would bounce right back with a little time. "I may be as drunk as you are, but my reflexes are better than yours. I'm driving. We have extra cars at our house. You can take one of them when you want to leave."

They were back to staring at each other to see who would win the argument. Alaric clenched his jaw, let his hand drop, and nodded. "Fine, but I get to choose the car." Alaric ignored the fact that he sounded like a whiney eight year old.

Damon tipped his head to the concession, let go of Alaric's arm, and started walking to his car. "Fine. But if you break it you've bought it, and we only stock antiques." He heard Alaric's chuckle behind him.

The ride didn't take long even though Damon took extra care. He could imagine the fit Alaric would throw if he added a body count to tonight's adventures, and as Damon was hoping to convince Alaric to go a little farther than just talking, he wanted to stay on his good side. Once they'd made it to the house Damon went to the stereo and put on some music by a group Alaric didn't know, but that he suspected his students might be able to name. Damon took off his own jacket and threw it over the back of a chair. Then he walked over to pull Alaric's jacket off and tossed it in the same direction, pushing Alaric in the general direction of the couch.

"I'm pouring myself another drink. You?" Damon was already filling up a glass off the bar, but he looked over his shoulder to wait for Alaric's answer.

"Sure. What the hell. Are you always more pushy once you're in your own home, or do I get special treatment? The last time I was here really isn't a fair comparison." Alaric sat down on the couch and wondered how this had become his life - spending his evening drinking companionably with the vampire that had killed his wife. Who had killed him on this very floor just a week ago. Not that the second one had stuck, and he had attacked Damon first, but still. Then again, his wife hadn't exactly stayed dead either. It was too much to make sense of in his current state, so he stared into the banked fireplace, a look of confusion on his face.

"That's not the look I usually see on the faces of the people I bring home." Damon seemed curious as he handed Alaric a new glass of bourbon and sat down sideways on the couch to face him.

"Just thinking how messed up this whole thing is." He took a big sip of his drink and leaned back into the cushions.

Damon tilted his head to the side considering Alaric's answer. "What thing?"

Alaric gestured to himself, Damon, the room. "All of it. You and me here. The dying but not staying dead. Both of us chasing off after women that clearly don't want to be found. Its messed up."

Damon nodded his head in understanding. "Yeah, but give it time. You get used to it."

That answer made Alaric burst into laughter. Damon was so nonchalant. "I suppose you would be the expert on this brand of messed up."

"Yes. Yes I am. You know what else helps?"

"Besides alcohol, which I have to agree is very helpful?"

Damon hmm-ed in agreement. "That, and also this." Damon leaned in and kissed Alaric like he was trying to figure out a new puzzle, intent and slow and considering every possible outcome. He backed off after what might have been seconds, but felt to Alaric more like an eternity, and waited.

Alaric blinked at him, surprised that all he really wanted was to try that again, only maybe with more hands this time. He certainly wasn't put off by the move. Finding his voice he asked, "Kissing? That's what's helpful?" His voice was lower and rougher than usual.

Damon's expression slowly shifted from curious to much more predatory. "Kissing is just the start. It gets better from there." He leaned back in, put his drink down and did the same with Alaric's. He braced himself against the back of the couch with one arm as he ran his other hand through Alaric's hair, tugging him into a second kiss. This one was a little more forceful, more sure of itself, and Alaric's body responded with a jolt down into his belly.

Alaric brought his hands up to stop Damon, though they did start to wander on the shirt front rather than push back like he'd intended. "Wait. Stop. What's your game here Damon?"

Damon paused and met Alaric's stare. He let out a little huff of exasperation at having to explain himself. "I'm helping you chill out. I'm taking a night off from my problems. Relax. You're full of vervain, it's not like I'm going to bite you." Alaric had to agree that last part was true. As for the rest, his body was eager to find out what Damon had in mind.

Damon leaned back in and Alaric's hands slid around his torso to dig into his back. The added sensation under his hands, of Damon's hand behind his head, and the renewal of the kiss brought a groan from Alaric's mouth only to be smothered by Damon's lips. Damon moved, shifting one leg over so that he was kneeling on the couch straddling Alaric's lap, his knees pressing in on either side of Alaric's hips. Slowly he broke the kiss off and sat up, tongue sweeping out over his lower lip as if chasing the taste, then moved his hands to knead across Alaric's chest. Alaric's head fell back onto the cushion behind him as he gave in to the feeling of being touched. It had been a very long time since Alaric had been with anyone, and while fooling around with Damon seemed incredibly stupid, it also seemed incredibly right. Plus, the man practically oozed sex. Resistance was clearly futile. Not that he wanted to resist. Not while Damon was unbuttoning his shirt and lightly trailing his nails along Alaric's sides. There was a momentary pause as Damon stripped off his own shirt before he leaned back in to capture Alaric's mouth in a scorching kiss, followed by little nips along his jaw, the skin behind his ear, and down his neck to his collar bone. Alaric took in the view of Damon bent over his body and ran his own hands along Damon's sides. He was marvelling at the turn his evening had taken when Damon slid one hand to the zipper of his pants and applied just the right amount of pressure causing Alaric to gasp at the sudden feeling.

"Stay with me Alaric. No wandering off." His tone was teasing, but there was a heat to it that sent a shiver all the way down Alaric's spine.

Back in the moment, Alaric grabbed Damon's arms, pushed and twisted at the same time, and rolled them off the couch and onto the floor. It was a hard landing but as Damon was on the bottom, Alaric didn't think twice about it. He moved his hands to grip Damon's wrists and pushed them up over his head. Damon smirked and seemed about to say something until Alaric bent down to suck at Damon's neck, and the sound Damon made came out as a hiss instead of words and he closed his eyes. Alaric knew he likely wouldn't get to keep the upper hand for long, so he closed his teeth gently against Damon's neck for a moment more before moving to kiss Damon again. This time Alaric was the one pushing for more, teasing his tongue inside Damon's mouth and rolling their hips against each other. He finally pulled back with a soft nip to Damon's lower lip and sat up. He let his grip on Damon's wrist ease and traced his hands down Damon's arms, over his chest, along his abs, and finally down to unfasten Damon's belt and jeans. Damon was watching Alaric now. A hunger completely human and having nothing to do with blood clear on his face. As Alaric slid a hand inside and grasped Damon's cock, Damon grunted and lifted his hips up off the floor to buck into the friction. Quicker that Alaric could follow, Damon flipped their positions without pulling free from Alaric's grip. Alaric was on his back on the carpet and Damon was above him, undoing Alaric's pants with the hand he wasn't using to hold his body up off Alaric's, giving their hands room to move. As Damon took hold and pulled at Alaric's erection the sensation tingled all the way to his toes. They built a rhythm together of pulling and twisting and squeezing and Alaric was soon panting and so very close to climaxing. He moved his free hand to the arm Damon was using to hold himself upright and pushed at the elbow joint, catching him by surprise and collapsing Damon's body down onto his own. The added weight, heat, and sensation was all it took and Alaric cried out and bit down hard into Damon's shoulder as he came. Damon let out his own shout in response and spilled out into Alaric's hand a moment later, as his head dropped down to the floor beside Alaric's.

They lay there for a minute as they caught their breath, and then Alaric pushed halfheartedly at Damon's shoulder. "Move. You're heavy." Damon complied and rolled to the side, ending up on his back beside Alaric. He reached out and snagged one of their shirts off the floor, not caring whose shirt it was, and cleaned up the worst of the mess and tucking himself back in to his shorts before handing the shirt over to Alaric to do the same.

Damon kicked Alaric's foot with his own, boots still on for both of them. "For the record, you were the only one to do any biting. I find that totally unfair."

Alaric nodded, a soft smile on his face as he stared at the ceiling. "True. Duly noted." He had no intention of moving any time soon, but was curious. "What are the odds that Stefan will walk in while we're laying here?"

Damon chuckled next to him. "Slim. He's off with Elena likely talking through his 'issues' now that he's off human blood again. Probably being annoyingly sincere and serious about it too."

Alaric nodded again. "He's a good guy."

Damon sighed, "That he is." He sat up and leaned back against the couch, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them.

Alaric rolled his head to the side to look at him. "You're not always such a bad guy yourself."

Damon didn't answer but he did look down at Alaric who was still lying with his pants open on the floor. His skin was flushed, his hair was messed up, and he seemed more relaxed. Damon supposed he probably looked pretty much the same. He would never say it out loud, but he was starting to suspect Alaric might be right.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: Huge thank you's to [](http://alittleblue.livejournal.com/profile)[**alittleblue**](http://alittleblue.livejournal.com/) and [](http://silviakundera.livejournal.com/profile)[**silviakundera**](http://silviakundera.livejournal.com/) who agreed to beta for me and made this story better.


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